


Fremione and the Weasleys - The Christmas Special

by moonfairy13



Series: Fremione and the Weasleys [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fred Weasley Lives, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Marriage, One Big Happy Weasley Family (Harry Potter), Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27796687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonfairy13/pseuds/moonfairy13
Summary: After writing an experimental one shot which accidentally turned into the 450k+ word story of the first few weeks of Fred and Hermione's romance, one author needed a bit of a rest. But loose ends needed to be tied up, and stories remained, so here's a five-part revisit to the Fremione and the Weasleys universe which will be released (on Tuesdays, of course!) throughout December 2020. Because if ever we needed Fremione fluff, to find out how all the other Weasley romances are going and a bit of light relief in the shape of the conclusion to Fremione sex bingo, it's now. And yes, there are only four Tuesdays before Christmas, so the last part is coming on Christmas Eve. Hope you enjoy 😊 💜
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Series: Fremione and the Weasleys [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1035816
Comments: 126
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, I'm a professional author who does this for fun. I have no desire for critical feedback, so save that for those who will appreciate it, but happy comments and Christmas emojis are always welcome. Merry Christmas and happy holidays 🎄 🎄 🎄

Hermione Granger-Weasley awoke slowly, and with a vague (thanks to the fact that she was still half asleep) thought on her mind that today was important. As she dozed in her warm bed, it came to her that today marked the day on which she could now say that she hadn’t had a nightmare for fourteen weeks. She didn’t usually count such things that closely, but the question of how long it had been had occurred to her in the bath the previous evening. Her husband and his brother were working late in the shop and had declared it a takeaway night, so Hermione had enjoyed some pondering time. 

Her last bad dream, she had realised as she floated in the bubbles, had been a couple of days before her birthday. But since then they had stopped, just like that. It may have been due to the fact that her birthday was also the day on which she and Fred had had a second wedding celebration, for the sake of Hermione’s parents, and, as she lay in her half-awake state, her thoughts drifted to the memory of that day. Mum and Dad had already spent a very pleasant afternoon and evening watching all of the films, photos and memories of the original wedding that Bill had collected for that very purpose, and they were beyond grateful to the eldest Weasley brother for his forethought. Hermione's dad had thanked Bill by introducing him and Arthur to a bottle of twenty year old Scotch whisky, which had pleased the two wizards no end. But Molly had declared that there should be a second ceremony and a renewing of vows, which there was. And, of course, a proper Weasley garden party to follow. 

So Hermione, Fred and everyone else had donned the same outfits that they wore the first time around. Kingsley had happily agreed to perform the ceremony again and they enjoyed a day of celebration, food and wine at The Burrow, which included the reconstruction of the rope descent for the wedding dance. Charlie had taken Lauren down on it at least five times, presumably (Bill and George theorised) as a way of making up for lost time, as he had gone stag to their first wedding and only reunited with Lauren later. Elliot had beaten the record for descents, insisting that he was strapped to as many couples as possible. The combination of that and the volume of sausages and cake that he consumed had led to him being sick, of course, but he recovered quickly, thanks to his delight in watching Charlie clean the grass behind the tree by casting a vanishing spell.

The whole day had been merry and filled with fun. Molly hadn't danced so much since before the first wizarding war. Fred and George had donned a succession of hats during the reception, which they claimed they were testing, so Hermione danced in turn with a husband who was wearing a sombrero, a Santa hat and a dark blue baseball cap with a tiger on the front. Lee and Verity spent most of the reception snogging, leading George to spend most of the reception taking bets on how long it would take them to become pregnant. Angelina and Fleur glowed with pregnancy, though they both wore charmed shoes and took advantage of the sofas that Arthur had transfigured. And for his second wedding present, Phil had presented Hermione and Fred with a portkey, which took them back to the beach cove for a couple of nights. They had been delighted.

Remembering the joy of those two days, which they spend mostly in bed (and only partly because the nights were much cooler than on their actual honeymoon), Hermione smiled to herself. She hadn’t been the slightest bit concerned about taking the portkey with Fred at ten o’clock and leaving her parents to enjoy a nightcap with the Weasleys before driving back to their house. The Grangers had been welcomed into Molly and Arthur’s fold, and the two older couples had become firm friends. Her dad took Arthur’s excitement in stride, and would happily sit in one of the (secret) armchairs in Arthur’s shed and answer the wizard’s questions over a drink or two. And while Hermione’s mum and Molly had very little in common except for Hermione and Fred, it turned out that that was all they needed as the basis for a firm friendship. 

Her mum and dad had initially been very surprised to learn that Hermione was married. She had turned up at St Mungo’s the morning after the ball, feeling thankful for the hangover truffles and even more thankful for her thoughtful husband, who insisted on going with her to offer moral support but then waited in the family area so that their first ‘hello’ could be a private one. About twenty minutes after they had arrived, Hermione came back to get Fred, who felt more nervous than he had thought he would as he neared his new parents in law, who he had only ever seen from afar on platform nine and three quarters.

But he needn’t have worried. Hermione had over-emphasised two things as she told them the story. The first was the fact that she and Fred had known and loved each other for years, so this wasn’t at all a rushed thing between two people who barely knew each other. But she had also waxed lyrical about how quickly Fred had stepped in, wanting to help her when he thought she might be at risk. Hermione guessed – correctly, as it turned out – that this would appeal both to her mother’s sense of romance and to her father’s desire that she end up with a man who would protect her, whether or not she needed that protection (and Hermione rather thought not, but it wasn’t worth arguing over.) Fred managed to charm both of her parents and, within minutes, they were firm fans of the tall, funny wizard and enchanted by the adoring looks he gave their only daughter.

The Grangers had, though, as Kingsley had warned her at the Ball, already decided to return to Australia. There were important things to do first, like Hermione and her mum’s annual trip to W H Smith for school supplies, followed by hot chocolate in the Marks and Spencer café, but they could fit these into a couple of months, they decided. So, after spending August and September in England so that they could sort through their possessions, ship the things they wanted to keep, put their house on the market and spend lots of time with Hermione, the Grangers flew back down under before the weather turned. 

Thanks to their magical friends, the Grangers had managed to stay in their own house until the night before they flew, when several Weasleys arrived, shrunk the last bits of furniture and packed them into pre-prepared boxes which made everything look as if it was made for a child’s doll’s house. Kingsley had arranged for the Melbourne Ministry to give them a magical liaison who would help them to enlarge the furniture when they arrived and would then stay in touch. It would mean that they would have a way of travelling to England by emergency portkey or getting magical help should they ever need it. The Grangers were also in possession of one of Fred and George’s mirror phones, carefully warded by Bill to appear like a normal mirror and not receive calls for the duration of the flights. That enabled Hermione to talk to them whenever she wanted. She got into the habit, thanks to the time difference, of having a quick chat with her mum over breakfast each morning, which worked well for both of them and meant they could share the day-to-day detail of each other’s lives rather than just the highlights which arose in a weekly chat.

Hermione’s next thought as she awoke that morning was for Professor Snape. Or, rather, for his portrait, who she had spent some time with that summer and autumn. She smiled as she remembered how he had tried to maintain his grumpy demeanour but had increasingly allowed his passion for teaching her to overcome his desire to make snippy remarks. Although the time frame was tight, Hermione had comfortably satisfied his requirement by making the perfect Felix Felicis. This was, as promised, gifted to Professor McGonagall, who promptly called a meeting of her fellow grandmother-age witches so that she could gift them each with a drop in a vial that they could wear around their necks until they needed it. She had insisted that Hermione take a vial as well. And although it still sat on her bedside table, its existence might, Hermione thought, also have been a factor in the lessening of her nightmares. 

But rather than closing up the professor’s private potions laboratory and leaving Snape’s portrait to fester in his own loneliness once Hermione had brewed her potion and attained her NEWT, Minerva called Hermione into her office out of the blue one day. Having been approached by the Slytherin with an unusual proposition, the Headmistress explained Snape’s request that Hermione and anyone else that she might like to bring were welcome to continue to use the lab whenever they pleased. Snape had also, McGonagall explained, extended the invitation to Draco Malfoy, who was now training to be a healer and already turning his aptitude for potions into a useful sideline of developing advanced healing medicines. Hermione had taken to popping in and spending a couple of hours there a week, happy to accept the opportunity and Snape’s willingness to teach her. Together, they made and perfected several new products for the shop, although Snape had far more interest in the medicinal end of the WWW range than any of the pranks. Sometimes, Draco would appear at the same time, and all three of them would work on a project together, which Hermione found surreal but also strangely enjoyable, now that she knew they were all on the same side.

Then, just days before the end of the Michaelmas term and before the students all left the school for the Christmas holidays, Minerva informed Hermione that Snape had visited his portrait in her office with an unusual offer. 

“He said,” the elder witch reported with a wry smile, “that he would like to gift you with his supplies, books and equipment, and he wouldn’t think it a terrible idea if you wanted to take his portrait and install him in the potions workroom at Fred and George’s shop, where he might on occasion be of use.” McGonagall’s smiled widened, as she continued to quote her colleague’s words to a now grinning Hermione. “If nothing else, to save the Weasley twins from blowing themselves up because of their lack of attention to detail as far as the fundamental laws of magic are concerned.”

“Brilliant,” had been Hermione’s reply. Draco, it turned out, was going to have another painting of Snape made and hung at Malfoy Manor, and Susan was supportive. Much to Hermione’s surprise, Fred and George also thought that having their old teacher’s portrait in the workroom was an excellent idea. Not only because they had seen how much Snape had mellowed with Hermione, or because they had a mind for business and it was clear that he would be an asset. Nor was it down to the fact that their old teacher still felt bad about George's ear, and seemed to have formed something of a soft spot for the younger twin. It was mostly the result of what Luna called their ‘Weasleyness’; a streak of kindness which meant that none of them wanted to leave anyone out or see people lonely, not when they had a big family to share. A discussion had taken place, in which Snape's portrait had insisted that they hung curtains over him and only opened them when he was welcome. He didn't want to intrude and was happy to spend the remainder of his time in the Headmistress' office or at Malfoy Manor, he explained. They had moved him to hang on the wall on the side of the workroom which held their potion benches and equipment and both Hermione and George made an effort to let him know ahead of time when they would be working on new projects that might interest him. Snape proved to be even more helpful that they had imagined, although Verity was wary of him and definitely visited that room less after he arrived. 

“Don’t think about the bat when I’m about to give your pussy a good morning treat!”

Hermione’s eyes opened, and she turned her thoughts to the redheaded man who was laying beside her, his head propped on his hand and the oft-present smile on his face and in his eyes.

“Reminiscing?” he asked, and she smiled.

“Something like that.”

Thanks to their marriage bond, Fred could read her thoughts, or at least the pictures that formed them, although they could each shield their minds if they needed to. But Hermione had no reason to block his access that morning, so he had been following along. He smiled as Hermione cast a quick breath-freshening charm on them both, and then leaned forward to kiss her lips before sliding a hand gently over her thighs.

“No knickers … good,” he said, pressing one more kiss to Hermione’s mouth before sliding down her body and making her squeak as he stroked and then kissed her curls before parting them with his fingers and then dragging his tongue across her most sensitive places.

With another soft moan, Hermione rolled her legs further apart, making sure he had enough room. There was a time in which she might have been hesitant to do such a thing, having picked up some rather disempowering ideas as a child and a teenager about how girls and women ‘should’ behave. But her time with Fred had kick-started the practical side of her journey out of that way of thinking, and a few months of daily contact with Lauren and Angelina on top of her conversations with Ginny had kept her firmly on the road to liberation. As a result, Hermione was getting better all the time at seeking and claiming her own pleasure.

“More … harder,” she said, and felt Fred’s grin spread over her sex.

“I love it when you tell me what to do,” he muttered, without moving his lips, which caused her to make more noises.

“Hard spells,” she said, “and then get up here and fuck me.”

“Mmmmm,” Fred said, keeping his tongue on her clit the whole time. “Hard as in making fiendfyre, or hard as in this kind of hard? Or both?” As he finished the sentence, he increased the pressure, swiping the letters of a series of spells around and over her nub with the tip of his tongue – and Hermione neither knew nor cared what they were – and pushing a finger inside her, moving it in and out as he licked and making her see stars. When she began to come, Fred gently suckled at her, knowing how much she loved this, until she begged for his cock. Sliding back up her body, he pushed into her, ready and hard, and slowly fucked her, while looking deep into her gaze, until he reached his own orgasm. Their bond pulsed, and the sensations they shared took them over the edge within moments of each other.

Hermione wound her arms further around Fred's back and her legs around his waist, gripping him to her body and squeezing him until he squeaked amidst his groans. As she finished riding the waves of sensation, she huffed in joy at the little noise he had made. Fred raised his head from her shoulder and gave her a gentle kiss, full on her mouth, before looking into her eyes fondly. 

“Happy Christmas Eve, love,” Fred said, and Hermione could taste herself on his lips. “Here’s to a Merry Weasley Christmas." 🎄 


	2. Chapter 2

“What’s the plan then?” Fred asked, as he cuddled Hermione to his side. He was slightly wary of the fervour with which Hermione had approached the festive season. Hermione and Angelina (but mostly Hermione) had spent two whole days baking, wrapping and making mirror calls to the rest of the Weasley family from the flat. Fred and George had made the unspoken – except very carefully through their twin bond, while shielding their thoughts from their Christmas-obsessed wives – decision to not go upstairs during the day more than necessary. Fred had engaged as much as he could, but was relieved when eventually Hermione had explained that she just had a lot of excess energy now that term had ended and was just so delighted to be a part of the Weasley Christmas celebrations. After a quick consultation with Charlie, the brother who had become Fred’s go-to relationship expert, he had decided to take Charlie’s advice and focus on supporting the burst of festive energy as much as he could. 

So, the previous weekend, he and George had reminded their wives that the shop would be buying extra staff lunches for the entire week leading up to Christmas, and that Hermione and Angelina should pop down and get whatever they fancied from the staff room buffet each day. The twins next announced that they were going to make or organise dinner every evening, and do all the washing up. That had been an easy win for them. Molly always made Sunday dinner and sent leftovers for the four of them for Monday. Tuesday the twins had put a shoulder of pork on low before they went down to the shop and made a ton of salad when they got home, which also gave leftovers for sandwiches if the witches didn’t want to come down to the shop for lunch. Wednesday was date night, so they were eating at Phil’s restaurant, and Thursday they would be back at Molly’s again. They hadn’t banked on all the additional washing up created by Hermione’s baking of mince pies, sausage rolls and gingerbread men but, as they very much enjoyed the fruits of her baking, they did the dishes without comment. And it seemed to help Hermione to feel free to do her own thing.

“Do you feel organised?” Fred asked tentatively, before she had even answered his first question. Given that he had just given his wife an orgasm by her favourite method – his tongue, closely followed by his cock – he felt safe to ask.

“I do, sweetheart,” she said, and Fred felt relieved to feel that Hermione was, indeed, more relaxed than she had felt for the last few days. “I have made enough food to feel that I have adequately contributed, I have wrapped all of our presents and I have packed my stuff.”

“Thanks for wrapping,” Fred said. He had wrapped approximately one and a half of his own gifts before Hermione had taken the lot from him, announced that he should separate hers out and then she would wrap the others for him. It wasn’t a gender thing, she told him, for Charlie and Bill were perfectly capable of gift wrapping, she knew. But she loved to wrap the muggle way and a good half of the Weasley men (including George and Ron; she didn’t know about Percy and made a mental note to ask Penelope, just out of curiosity) were pants at anything involving wrapping paper.

“Thanks for cooking and cleaning,” she said, smiling at Fred and loving the fact that they really did share the chores. “And for organising our contribution to the booze.”

“Pleasure,” he said, equally happy at how the were doing at sharing the work between them and then, seeing how early it still was, snuggled in for another doze before they needed to get up. He and George wanted to pop down and give the staff their Christmas gifts and bonus before opening the shop with a flourish. But from ten o’clock, they had faithfully promised, they were Hermione’s and Angelina’s and fully engaged in Christmas Eve.

In the next room, Angelina Johnson-Weasley was also claiming the lips of a Weasley man. She always had a harder time waking George than Hermione did with Fred, for Fred was the morning twin, but she had found two things to be very effective. One was to put George’s hand on the small swell of her tummy and to whisper, “say hello to daddy,” whereupon George would swiftly come to in his excitement that he was going to be a dad in a few months’ time. 

The second was a more time-honoured method, and Angelina opted for that one, wrapping her hand around his cock, adding a lubrication spell and whispering a reminder that, if George wanted Christmas eve sex, he was going to have to wake up and claim it now. Because, she reminded him, both in words and through the bond they shared, they would be sharing a room with Fred and Hermione for the next two nights, and it might not be appropriate. 

George awoke, convinced by his wife’s compelling argument, and turned towards her.

“Right then,” he said, voice cracking from lack of use overnight. “We’d better make it a good one…”

Just a few miles away across London, Penelope Weasley was contemplating her husband and wondering how it was that he could look so impossibly cute when he slept. He had, as he did about a third of the time, fallen asleep with his glasses on. As Percy slept on his back, he didn’t tend to notice their presence until he awoke, reached for them on the bedside table and then looked surprised to realise that he could now miraculously see without them. Generally, it then took about three seconds until it dawned upon him that he was still wearing them. He would then give his wife – who almost invariably awake first – a sleepy kiss, as she chuckled and shook her head gently at his forgetfulness.

Sometimes there was a book on his chest as well, but last night’s must have fallen on the floor, Penelope realised. She waved her wand and a chunky tome – which she recognised as one that Lauren had loaned him when they had gone to the cottage for dinner the previous week – sat itself back on the table.

Percy mumbled something in his sleep.

“Go back to sleep, my love,” Penelope whispered. “I’m going to floo everything I’ve baked over to your mum’s before anyone else is around. She and I talked about it on the mirror phone yesterday. That way, she can get it safely hidden away in the pantry and there might even be some left for Boxing Day!”

“Alright,” Percy said, and Penelope gave him a kiss on the cheek, stroking his tousled hair into a bit more order as she did. The two had been married for nearly two months, having decided after the crazy summer that they wanted a quick, quiet autumn wedding at The Burrow. They both wanted to start a family as soon as possible, and Percy in particular felt strongly about traditional family values, so he didn’t want to take the chance of getting pregnant out of wedlock. Secretly, Penelope thought this was unlikely, as they were both careful and neither of the two of them were particularly sexual beings. So their lovemaking was a weekend treat – sort of like having a good glass of port after a nice dinner - rather than something they indulged in impulsively or every other day, but she was equally happy to marry quickly and quietly and leave the swish wedding for Ginny and Harry. She was happy with Percy, and looking forward to the day on which they would be able to add to the Weasley family. She had even planned out how she would share the news.

Penelope slipped out of bed, took a quick shower, pulled on the clothes that she had selected the night before and went to the kitchen to collect the boxes to take to Molly. There were still a few lights on outside the picture window; midwinter London wasn’t yet fully awake. Percy vaguely registered the noise of the floo as his wife disappeared, but then he turned a little and burrowed back into the warm bed. It had been a busy few months, what with all of the reforming of the Ministry and the Wizengamot that he and Kingsley had been leading on, and he was looking forward to a few days off with his extended family. Not for the first time, he thanked the gods that Molly and Arthur had realised after Ron was born that Percy was the one Weasley child who really needed a bedroom of his own.

That decision had benefitted Ron as well because he had ended up with his own room too. These days, he lived in the attic, which had been converted a bit so that it was a large, airy space which gave him a great view over the garden and enough room to be able to study his auror textbooks and lounge about with friends as well as to sleep. He had agreed that it could be divided for the Christmas period, when Molly and Arthur asked, but he was then delighted to discover, the previous Sunday, that the twins, Bill and Charlie actually all rather liked the idea of enlarging their respective beds and bedrooms and bunking together with their wives – and, in Charlie’s case, son – just for a couple of nights. So Ron wouldn’t have to share his pad with any of his siblings.

Ron stretched as he woke; turning slightly so he could see what the weather was like out of the tall window which occupied the whole of one side wall. He smiled with a combination of nostalgia and acceptance as he remembered how much Luna loved that window. He would often wake to find her sitting by it, inadequately clothed and staring out at magical creatures that only she could see. But as the summer had faded, he and Luna had realised that, no matter how much they cared for each other, they just weren’t meant to be together romantically. They were both too laid back, albeit in different ways. Ron needed someone who would take the lead a bit, but that wasn’t Luna. She needed someone to ground her and, a few weeks after she and Ron had made the amicable (and, to the much-discussed delight of Ron’s family, surprisingly mature) decision to just be friends. Not long after, Luna had met a wizard called Rolf, and they seemed to be happy together, which pleased Ron.

With a sigh, Ron stretched his body, slid out of bed and set about the series of stretching exercises with which he always began his day. He was one of only two Weasley family members who would be doing a full day’s work that day. The Ministry had given most of their workers Christmas Eve off, and the twins had offered Lee, Verity and their other staff double pay to work until lunchtime on Christmas Eve. Once it got to one o’clock, they had said, it was hard cheese on anyone who had left it that late; their staff needed to be able to go down the pub or spend time with their families. It was Lauren who had come up with the inspired idea – which she had originally intended as a joke – that the twins should create a magical vending machine for last minute holiday gift purchasing, which they could set up outside the store so that they wouldn’t lose out on trade. Bill and Fleur had been at that Sunday dinner too, and they became fascinated with the puzzle of whether and how such a machine could be charmed to ensure that it was secure and couldn’t be tampered with. They had offered a solution and, once the addition to the shop front had been created, they went to the shop and warded it carefully. But it was Ron who had provided the final piece of the set up.

“You know Harry and I have to work til five on Christmas Eve?” he asked. 

Fred and George had turned to him, keen to hear the implications of this statement for them.

“Well…” Ron continued with a casual shrug of his shoulders, ever the strategist. “There won’t be much to do that day. The auror department just needs to have a presence on Diagon Alley and they want a couple of people to just pop to Hogsmeade and a few other places, just to make sure there’s no silliness.”

“There won’t be,” Harry had added. The entire department were confident that they now had all of the death eaters and troublemakers rounded up and this Christmas would be a quiet one. People were genuinely more interested in celebrating peace and freedom (from the marriage law as well as from Voldemort) and the magical world had been full of goodwill for weeks now.

“So,” Ron said, wanting to keep the conversation on track, “for a small concession … say a decent WWW gift voucher and maybe some help with selecting presents, I could make sure that I spend a good amount of my Diagon Alley time in sight of the machine in my auror robes, checking that everyone is behaving.”

Fred and George had immediately decided that this was a good idea, and an agreement had been made. They had felt it only fair to offer Harry a cut too, but he laughed it off, pointing out that they already refused to let him pay for anything in the shop and that he had more money than he could use anyway. When Fred and George protested, Harry put a stop to the conversation by promising to think about it and come up with something. An hour later, he passed George on his way to the loo and made a request. “Add my cut to whatever you’re paying Ron,” he said. “Tell him you’ll give him a share of the profits on top. And don’t tell him the truth.”

George had readily agreed on behalf of himself and his twin, and Ron’s enthusiasm for getting up on Christmas Eve morning was only partly due to the fact that his brothers had given him enough credit vouchers for WWW and the other Diagon Alley stores (for he knew Hermione would not be impressed to find products that she had made and already had unlimited access to in her stocking) to cover most of his Christmas present buying. They had gone on to offer him a percentage of the profits from the machine that day, in cash, which they knew would set him up with beer money for the weeks after the holidays. And that was worth getting out of bed early for. He was confident that it was within his job description to not just ensure that all of the Diagon Alley shops were secure but to add a bit of extra auror holiday service and help out anyone who looked to be stressed by showing them how simple it was to buy a gift from the machine. And besides, he had an important errand to run before work.

Ten minutes later, Molly Weasley was on her second cup of tea when her youngest son arrived in the kitchen. The first cup had, as usual, been made by Arthur’s teasmade, but she had given her husband a quick kiss and then hopped out of bed, taking her tea into the bathroom and resting it on the side of the bath so she could drink it while she enjoyed a quick soak in the mulled wine flavour calming bath bubbles that were one of WWW’s best selling products that year. 

After drying, dressing and draining her mug, Molly made her way to the kitchen and flicked her wand at the stove to begin the process of making a second cup. She filled the kettle, anticipating that Arthur would be down soon and Penelope – who was always as punctual as her husband; a thought which caused Molly to smile and look at the wedding picture on her wall – would be there at eight. But she was surprised to see Ron emerge at seven thirty; fully dressed and apparently raring to go. Often he got ready at the last minute, only half-dressed until five minutes before he needed to floo to the Ministry.

“Eggs and bacon on toast?” Molly asked, and Ron nodded eagerly.

“That would be lovely, Mum, thanks.”

Molly set to with a frying pan and juggled that with her tea making. By the time Penelope flooed in, the elder witch had made enough breakfast for at least ten people.

“Well,” she had said, when Ron commented cheerfully on the volume of food. “There’s me, you and Dad. Penelope’s bringing a load of Christmas baking, and she won’t have eaten. She can take some back for Percy. And we’re bound to have more visitors; we always do. That,” she nodded towards the stove, where the food was keeping itself warm, “can tide them over while I make more.”

“Christmas baking?” Ron asked, having not registered anything after those two words.

Molly laughed and then leaned down to give her tallest son a kiss on the cheek.

“Never change, Ronnie,” she said, tousling his hair and making a mental note to hide the baking only after he had flooed to work.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Fleur Weasley wasn’t sleeping well. She managed to get off to sleep okay, and was frequently in bed by nine in the evening. But she would often wake when her husband slipped in beside her, which had caused him to offer to sleep in the spare room once in a while, although Fleur would not hear of it.

“Non,” she had said, firmly. “I will not have us be like those purebloods who have a marriage only in name. We shall always sleep in the same bed together and when the baby is a little bigger then maybe I shall sleep more. The midwife said it was likely my ‘ormones, and we laughed and said it might be good practice for when your child doesn’t want to sleep either.” She stroked Bill’s face, reassuring his concerned frown. “Aussi,” she pointed out in her soft voice, “there are nights on which I sleep through you coming to bed but then I wake at midnight anyway, and sleep eludes me until the early hours. It is not your fault.”

The upside, Bill had realised, was that Fleur’s body allowed her to sleep extra on weekends and holidays. So he had developed a strategy to allow her to sleep. It was actually thanks to a serendipitous conversation during one of the weekly dinners that he, Fleur, Lauren and Charlie now enjoyed. Having discovered that the twins and their wives had continued their tradition of eating together at Phil’s restaurant every Wednesday evening despite the fact that the four of them now shared a flat, the two eldest Weasley brothers had instigated a similar arrangement. But rather than going out, Bill and Charlie and their families would alternate between their two houses, mainly to save the need for a babysitter for Elliot. On the nights when Lauren and Charlie came to Shell Cottage, Elliot would arrive with them in his pyjamas and go to sleep in the spare room after a cuddle from Fleur while he had a bedtime story read by Bill. Sometimes his parents would join him and sleep over as well but, on other occasions, Fleur and Bill would offer to keep him and bring him home in the morning so that Charlie and Lauren could have some time to themselves. 

It was during one of these meals – at Shell Cottage – that Charlie had confessed to Lauren that he had had to use magic in order to reach her hotel balcony one day when they had been in Romania.

“You were in the bath with tummyache,” he reminded her, and she nodded.

“I remember it only too well,” she said, her face a combination of the memory of the pain and then the relief that Charlie had provided her once he had scaled the drainpipe to reach her in the outdoor hot tub. She had used the orgasm trick many, many times since. Sometimes twice in a day. But Bill and Fleur didn’t need to be told that.

“Well, the drainpipe was plastic,” he said, “so I used a featherlight charm. It’s a good job you weren’t up for hugging me that day,” he laughed, “because you might have accidentally lifted me off the ground and you’d have wondered what the fuck was happening!”

Although he had joined in with the laughing and joking that followed Charlie’s confession, Bill’s brain was whirring in a different direction. Within a couple of days, he had tried and perfected the use of featherlight spells on his own body when he was getting in and out of bed, so as to not wake his snoozing wife. It was still the case that he had more chance of getting up in the mornings without disturbing her than he did of getting into bed. Fleur claimed that was because she was subconsciously waiting for him so that they could snuggle. But at least he could leave her asleep when she had the chance to catch up, and that was exactly what he did.

Featherweight Bill slipped out of the bed, dressed in yesterday’s jeans and jumper and went to the bathroom where he applied a couple of cleaning charms to his body. He didn’t want to take the risk of running water and waking Fleur that way. He scribbled a quick note which he floated to his pillow and then tiptoed to the living room. He knew exactly where he would go, and he had an errand that he had been wanting to run for a while. Bill hefted a box under his arm and then, raising his wand, he apparated to The Burrow with the extra large pot of floo powder that he and Fleur had bought to donate to the Christmas celebrations. He was delighted – but not entirely surprised – to find, upon entering the kitchen door, that not only was there breakfast for him, but Molly quickly offered to put a plate together for him to take back under a warming charm for when Fleur awoke.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Three hundred miles north of Devon, Ginny Weasley watched her man getting dressed, making not-very-subtle comments about the muscles that he had developed over the past few months of auror training.

“You’re a very sexy wizard, Harry Potter,” she remarked, pulling the quilt a little higher. The cottage that they lived in – and which they had decided to stay in over the Hogwarts Christmas holidays so they could enjoy the Scottish snow rather than the duller fog of Grimmauld Place – was centrally heated, but she swore she could still feel a nip in the air.

“I’m a very late wizard, love,” he laughed, giving her a kiss 

“Go to Mum’s and pick Ron up,” Ginny said. “There’s no way she won’t have an extra breakfast hanging around. She’ll be delighted to make her favourite son a bacon toastie to eat on his way to work! Especially today. Tell her I’ll have breakfast here but I’ll be down later this morning.” 

Ginny had promised Molly that she would be there for the day to help. Her relationship with her mum had never been better, in part thanks to Fred’s intervention a few months back. Her brother had interceded in the argument about whether Harry was going to live with her at the school before they were married and, although Molly’s traditional values had come to the fore at first, Fred’s quiet (for once) reminder of the nightmares that both Ginny and Hermione were experiencing had through a rather different light on the situation for Molly. Ginny had been eternally grateful, to the extent that George was still regularly and jokingly complaining that Fred was clearly the Weasley sister’s favourite twin.

“You’re right,” Ginny would say to George in a matter of fact voice. “He is currently my favourite twin. But you should just see that as encouragement to find even lovelier things to do for me so that you can, one day, win his spot in my heart.” She would grin, pull George down so she could kiss his cheek, and then saunter off, laughing. One day, she called back over her shoulder, “You could make me a Godmother first, you know,” and George had spent the rest of the day wondering if she was serious.

Harry kissed Ginny, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “Have a good day with your mum, love.” He nodded to his bag, neatly positioned in a corner of the bedroom. “My stuff’s in there, like you said.” Ginny nodded. They were also staying at The Burrow for a couple of nights and, with Harry working til five that day, it was easier if Ginny moved them into her old bedroom so he could go straight to Devon after work. 

“Got it,” she said, returning the kiss.

Harry saluted and then half-ran for the floo, knowing she was right about the time and the breakfast and wanting to make sure he got to The Burrow before Ron left. It was easier to slip in five minutes late if they were five minutes late together. 

But when he got there, Molly said that Ron had left early, claiming there was something he needed to do before work. But no matter, she added with a beaming smile, always delighted to have the chance to feed Harry. There was more than enough breakfast to fortify her favourite adoptive son for the day ahead.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Lauren Bennett was excited. Usually, she was very happy to allow Charlie – a lifelong morning person – to get up first. She would snuggle back down into the duvet, still warm where he had slept, and smile as she heard he and Elliot having conversations about animals, breakfast and what they were going to do that day. But this particular Thursday was Christmas eve, and she was far too excited and happy to stay in bed a moment longer.

She stretched, slipped out of bed, pulled on a dressing gown and padded to the kitchen, where her two favourite wizards were making tea. Elliot still loved to copy every wand movement he saw; a practice which had Molly and Minerva eagle-eyed every time, because both had a sneaking suspicion that the dragon magic which was causing him to be so advanced for his age was going to supersede his need for a wand to channel it. It was really, Minerva would regularly say, a question of when he would need a programme of special tuition in the magical arts, and not if.

But they didn’t need to worry about that now. They didn’t need to worry about anything today other than getting all of the presents and everything they would need for Christmas into the car and to The Burrow. Lauren had insisted she wanted to drive, just for the sheer enjoyment of being in her little blue car and having the experience of an hour or so of driving time while playing festive music. 

“You can’t sing ‘Fairytale of New York’ at the top of your voice while you’re flooing,” Lauren had explained at the previous weekend’s Sunday dinner, when everyone had shared their plans and Molly had made a big list of who would be sleeping where. The elder witch hadn’t even needed to speak her desire that as many of her brood and her families as possible would stay, both on Christmas Eve and Christmas Night; they had all assumed that to be the case and had instead loudly planned what food and drinks each person or couple would contribute and which bedrooms would need additional extension charms applied. Molly had been delighted.

“Are you enjoying your floo though?” Penny had asked, causing Lauren to nod enthusiastically and launch into an excited conversation about it. The addition to her cottage, which had been placed in her office, out of sight of muggle friends who might come by out of the blue, had been a birthday present from Percy and Penelope. Officially, it was a thank you gift from Kingsley, whose authority was needed for it to be situated, as a thank you for Lauren’s part in the Ball. But it was Percy who had conceived the idea, filled out all the paperwork and chopped expertly through the red tape. And it was Percy who had personally engaged the building team and closely supervised their work. Which drove the floo wizards slightly mad but further endeared the fussy Weasley brother to Lauren, who seemed to delight in how different she and Percy were from each other. Lauren was equally delighted with her new floo, and with the shiny pot of green powder that had been her birthday gift from Molly and Arthur. It was traditional, Molly had quietly explained, for witches to be gifted a floo powder pot by their mother, seeing as it sat so close to the hearth of their home. Both women had shed a few tears to mark the emotional moment and then, as was their wont, set about to make tea and do a bit of knitting together.

Lauren and Charlie’s floo solved a problem that they had been struggling with for a while. The pair had been so busy setting themselves up in their new roles, travelling between England and Romania and adjusting to living together – especially as their worlds were so different – that they hadn’t had time to think about moving the cottage. In October, as the nights began to draw in, Lauren admitted to Charlie that she would much prefer to nestle in with him and Elliot for the winter, accept that their transport difficulties were temporary and put thoughts of moving on hold until the spring. Charlie had agreed, but they had both been over the moon when Percy’s thoughtful gift allowed Lauren to travel independently through the wizarding world without always being reliant on Charlie. In the first week after installation, she had flooed to a different place every day and, at that Sunday dinner, Fred had joked that he was going to buy shares in floo powder so that he could profit from Lauren’s excitement.

But today, Lauren wanted to drive. It was a chance to gather and process her thoughts, especially as Elliot had been clear that he wanted to floo with Charlie, which meant that Lauren would be driving alone. “I’ll have a wonderful time,” she said, kissing both of her wizards as she picked up her car keys in one hand and her handbag in the other. Smiling at Elliot in his dragon cardigan, which she knew would make Molly happy, she looked around, feeling that prick of maternal worry that something had been forgotten. But it was too late now, she decided. One of them could easily floo back quickly if need be. “Look out for me from about eleven thirty,” she told Charlie, looking at her watch, “and you two can help me unpack everything.” Then she grinned, showed Charlie a colourful CD that was in her handbag and began to sing Christmas songs to herself as she walked out of the cottage and towards her gift-laden car.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Back at the flat above Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Fred was surveying their own pile of gifts and announcing that he was going to look like Santa himself when he tumbled out of the floo at The Burrow with the bag on his back. “Don’t you worry,” he said to the pygmy puffs, who were excitedly squeaking in their travel box. “You’re not going in the sack. Auntie Angie is going to carry you!”

“You were the one insisting the gifts should go in a sack and not my expandable bag,” Hermione pointed out, causing him to stick his tongue out.

“More fun this way,” he grinned. “Now, are you ready yet?” He and George had done their bit in the shop, paid the staff and then headed upstairs. Molly had promised to let them add to the decorations at The Burrow and they could barely wait to reveal the surprises that they had been secretly working on.

“No, we need to do one thing before we go,” said Hermione, catching George’s eye. George nodded.

“Oh, the bat!” Fred exclaimed, rolling his eyes and getting a short laugh from Angie. Although he was happy for Snape’s portrait to be in their workroom and grateful for his expertise, he was probably never going to completely forgive their former professor for the loss of George’s ear. Even though it was accidental, even though Snape himself had been mortified and apologised profusely when the opportunity arose and even though George himself had forgiven the older wizard. Fred had always been slightly louder and slightly more confident and he had always taken the lead. That made him George’s protector, when necessary, and the memory of returning home to find his brother bleeding on the sofa was hard to shake. Especially as Fred was still convinced that, had he and George been allowed to fly together on that night, they would both have been okay.

Nonetheless, he had that streak of ‘Weasleyness’ too, and he smiled and shook his head at the backs of the pair that were now headed down the stairs to the shop. Minutes later, they were back. 

“Did he like it?” Fred asked.

“He actually smiled when he said thank you!” Hermione laughed, delighted that Snape’s portrait had been pleased with his gift. Conscious that he had loved to read and study but was unable to do either in his current state, she and George had taken him a small box of oil paints, which represented her and the twins’ promise to spend a portion of the proceeds from the products that he had helped them with on a painter who would add a more detailed background to his painting in the shop. Of books, or potions equipment, or anything you like, the pair had told him, and he had, George said, looked more pleased than they had ever seen him look in life.

Fred opened his mouth to make a quip, but no-one ever heard what he would have said, for there was a knock at the front door of the flat. The twins looked at each other with a look of surprise; they weren’t expecting anyone, and friends and family would either use the floo or come through the entrance to the shop. It was Hermione who strode over and opened it, and she was unable to hide her surprise when she saw who stood there.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you, but I need to talk to you and your husband. Is that okay?”


	3. Chapter 3

It only took Hermione a couple of moments to get over her shock and remember her manners.

“Of course,” she said, standing back and gesturing for the witch to come in to the flat. “Come in and tell us how we can help.”

Lavender Brown looked around her and took in the flat above the shop, which Hermione, Fred, George and Angelina all shared. Despite the fact that the four would be spending Christmas at The Burrow, it had a big tree with twinkling lights and a mass of tinsel, ornaments and baubles, which had been gifted to Hermione by her parents. And Fred and George had charmed tinsel, holly and mistletoe to hang in garlands from every picture rail and door frame, which meant that Angelina and Hermione had been caught under the mistletoe on multiple occasions. Neither had complained, although Hermione had, on one occasion, left Fred under his own charmed mistletoe for fifteen minutes ‘in order that he could see how it felt to be stuck.’ After that experience, the twins had adapted the spell to ensure that no-one would be trapped by the magical mistletoe unless their significant other was in the area.

“Would you like a cup of tea? Or maybe some hot chocolate?”

Hermione looked gratefully at George, who had picked up the look of worry on Lavender’s face before his brother.

“Tea would be lovely, er…” Lavender clearly couldn’t tell the men apart, especially as they had both grown their hair a bit.

“George,” he said, deciding for once to be truthful. “Milk? Sugar? Mione? Love? Fred?”

Drinks orders taken, he headed to the kitchen, and Angie followed, wanting to give Lavender time with Hermione and Fred. It was them she had asked to speak to, after all. And truth be told, they were all a little shocked to see the younger witch. They had known that she had been badly injured by Greyback in the final battle but, they whispered to each other, they were both a bit embarrassed to realise that they had neither heard what had happened to her afterwards nor thought to ask. A moment later, George confirmed to Angie that Fred felt the same way.

“You should leave the door open,” Lavender said, raising her voice just a little. “I have nothing to hide and it’s probably best you all know. Assuming you’re all going to your mum and dad’s for Christmas?”

Fred confirmed that thought with a nod, and took Hermione’s hand in his own as he encouraged Lavender to chat. He could sense Hermione’s uncertainty. She and Lavender had been room mates, he knew, and they had little in common except Ron, but that had, on occasion, been rather a sore point.

“You’re probably wondering where I’ve been,” Lavender said, her voice conveying only a portion of its previous confidence and sounding much less annoying than when Hermione had last seen her. The blonde witch swallowed, turning her face and moving her hair so that the pair could see the scars that glamours could only partly cover. “I was attacked by Greyback during the last battle and I survived, obviously, but I was very badly injured and also affected mentally. I’ve been in a magical rehabilitation centre since the battle.”

“Oh you poor thing.” Hermione’s tone was sincere and her heart went out to the woman. She had experienced her own share of trauma, stress and the like, but having Fred in her life had enhanced her own healing journey, she knew.

“I’m alright,” Lavender said. “I’m very lucky, considering.” 

They all nodded, remembering fallen friends.

“And you’re out in the wider world again now?” Fred asked, unsure of how to phrase it. But he needn’t have worried; Lavender wasn’t one to nit pick the nuances of language.

“Yes,” she said simply, smiling at George as he put a mug down in front of her. “Thank you, George. I was released a few days ago, in time for Christmas. I’ll be trying to find a job after the holidays,” she said, “but I know my options might be limited.” Her voice became softer and she looked at Hermione. “I wasn’t turned but, as you know yourself, prejudice isn’t based on fact.”

“I’m so sorry this has happened to you,” Hermione said. It was clear that Lavender was easier to be around than before, because she was quieter, more circumspect, more humble. But even as Hermione thought these thoughts, she felt guilty. The brash Lavender had been annoying, but it wasn’t fair that anyone’s rough corners should be rubbed off in this way.

“Everything happens for a reason,” Lavender said simply.

“So how can we help?” Fred asked. “You said you wanted to talk to us about something? If you need a job, George and I could certainly let you know when we’re interviewing next? That won’t be until well after the holidays though, and January and February are very quiet months for us, so even if someone left we wouldn’t necessarily replace them right away…”

“No,” Lavender said. “That’s not it. I mean, I’d be open to applying for a job, especially if you wanted someone to help with the Wonder Witch products...” She paused and sipped her tea. “That’s not something I had considered though. I’d like to work with people who have scars,” she said, touching her own face. “I’m just not sure how yet. No, I need to talk to you about Christmas.”

“Oh?” George and Fred spoke in unison, intonating their voices in exactly the same way. That was unexpected.

The sight of the two wizards speaking simultaneously triggered an old memory in Lavender, and it made her smile to think of their schooldays. She spread her hands out.

“I’ll just say it all at once,” she said, looking a bit embarrassed. “I bumped into Ron a few days ago, and we’ve been catching up a bit. We’ve both grown up a lot, and I was glad to have the chance to apologise for some of the ways I behaved in the past. He did too. We went on a date last night, and he invited me to coffee before he went to work this morning.” Her hand waved towards the window, vaguely indicating the café where, in sunnier days, they had all sat outside and celebrated Neville’s birthday. “Well, we met up earlier and it turns out that he talked to his … your Mum and Dad last night and they’ve invited me to join you all for Christmas. He’s offered to pick me up when he finishes work, and we would be there for dinner this evening. Ron wants me to come and stay for a couple of days, like you all are...”

She looked between the four of them, trying to work out their thoughts.

“And how can we help?” Fred asked. “You don’t need our permission…” he began, but he was interrupted by both Hermione and Angelina. 

“That’s wonderful!” Hermione exclaimed.

“You’d be made very welcome,” Angelina said, at the same time. “Ron would be on his own otherwise, as the rest of us are all married or coupled up. It would be lovely to know he’s not going to be left out.”

“If Molly has extended the invitation, then that’s all you need,” Hermione added, guessing exactly what Lavender’s concern was and why she had felt she needed to suss out Hermione’s opinion. It was one thing to get back into a relationship with Ron slowly and in their own time. It was something else to dive into it in the middle of the Weasley family and at Christmas. “Really, you WILL be very welcome. And we’ll all keep an eye out for you.”

“As long as you’ve moved on from the PDA,” Fred said, with a wink.

“And as long as you recognise that Fred teasing you about your PDA means that he’s accepting you as a family member,” George continued, giving his brother a warning frown. Hermione sent her own message through the bond and Fred looked slightly sheepish.

“Sorry, love,” he said to Lavender, pulling a face at Hermione as he tried to read her emotions.

A smile crossed Lavender’s face and she lifted her eyebrows; her eyes glistening with happiness. “I’ve grown up a lot in the last six months. I think I can take a bit of that from you two.”

“What we really need,” said Angelina, putting one hand on her heart and the other on Hermione’s leg, “is for you to join our ranks and help us give it back!”

That did it. Lavender’s smile widened and she clasped her hands together.

“Thank you,” she said, looking mostly at Hermione but also nodding gratefully at Angelina and the two grinning wizards. “I was just worried that you might not want me invading your Christmas.”

“Crikey, love,” said Fred. “There were already something like twenty people coming for Christmas dinner at the last count. Dad had to get Bill and Charlie to help him add a dining room on to the house! It was either that or borrow the great hall to eat Christmas dinner in!”

Hermione and George laughed, but all four smiled as they remembered the activities of the previous weekend. They happily recounted it to Lavender. Molly had counted up who she had invited so far; the Weasley family and their partners alone numbered sixteen (and now seventeen with Lavender, George noted), and Andromeda, Teddy, Minerva and Kingsley had also been invited. And there was very little chance, Hermione pointed out, that someone wouldn’t turn up with another witch or wizard who would otherwise be alone on Christmas day. So Arthur, Bill and Charlie had set to after Sunday lunch and added another room on the side of the house; a large dining room with a table big enough for them all. It was a temporary structure, supported by Arthur's building charms, Bill’s wards and further protected by Charlie’s expert knowledge of weather magic and impermeable charms. Elliot had ‘helped’ while strapped to Charlie’s back and was convinced that he was personally responsible for the stars that his dad had conjured and strung around the ceiling. In truth, Charlie thought that the little wizard might have been responsible for some of them, as there seemed to be more hanging at the end of his work than he had initially planned and Fred had spotted Elliot’s hand repeatedly making the wand movement for the Gemini doubling spell. But the overall effect was what mattered. If it worked, and if Molly liked it, they could make it a permanent structure after the holidays.

“So,” Hermione concluded, “You come over with Ron. You’ll get a warm welcome, I promise.”

“Even though I’d be sharing Ron’s room?” Lavender asked, even more timidly. “Or maybe your mum would make me sleep somewhere else?”

“Oh,” Fred said, a knowing look on his face. “Ron’s not told you about Lauren then?”

“Charlie’s muggle partner?” Lavender said. “Yes, he told me about her, and their son.”

“Hmmm,” said George. “It doesn’t sound like he’s told you enough, if you still have concerns about Mum’s view on room sharing. Ask Ginny where she’s living when you see her next. That’s Fred’s doing too, but Lauren’s been a brilliant influence on Mum’s old pureblood views.”

“Oh Gods yes,” Fred took over. “Last week, after a bit too much brandy butter and eggnog, Mum spontaneously pointed out that there was no correlation between a witch’s virtue and her right to seek pleasure ... and then marched Dad up the stairs at wand point.”

George jumped in again. “He was blushing like a beetroot; it was brilliant!”

All five laughed and the twins shared a few more anecdotes that would help make Lavender feel more comfortable as they finished their tea. Minutes later, Lavender excused herself, thanking the others for their reassurance and saying that she would see them that evening, when she flooed in with Ron. Then her face dropped slightly. “What can I bring?” she asked. “Ron says nothing, but I can’t turn up empty handed.”

Hermione and Angelina nodded in understanding, even as Fred and George reiterated that she should just bring herself. The witches got it, though. The Weasleys never expected anything, but one wanted to find something nice to take nonetheless.

“We’ve already got enough cakes and biscuits to sink the Durmstrang ship. You could grab a bottle of Christmas booze,” Angelina advised. “And Molly loves it when people bring flowers and plants, although she’ll tell you that you shouldn’t have. Or something chocolatey for those of us who aren’t drinking!”

“Do you still make all those potions?” Hermione asked, remembering how Lavender and Parvati loved to experiment with beauty products.

Lavender nodded. That was the one thing she had been able to do in the rehabilitation centre, and her healers had seen it as good occupational therapy. That was one reason why her ears had pricked up at the thought of helping Fred and George with their Wonder Witch line.

“Then bring some of those for Boxing Day,” Hermione suggested. “They’ll go down a treat!”

Fifteen minutes later, Lavender had headed off to the shops, the flat had been warded and the two couples had flooed to The Burrow where they were greeted with delight by Molly.

“You’re just in time for coffee and mince pies!” she exclaimed.

“And so the feasting begins,” said Fred, rubbing his tummy and making wide, happy eyes at Hermione. She felt herself relax; the thought of two days with nothing to do except participating in her share of the chores and then snuggling up with Fred was blissful. She had a new book and a Christmas cross stitch in her bag, and a desire to spend as much time as possible on Fred’s lap. He and George had been busy in the run-up to Christmas and, while she had resumed her planning role at the shop once her studies were finished for the year and over the build-up to the festive season, they had been working on different parts of the business. But the shop was now closed for two and a half days and this was their chance to relax.

The four of them rushed upstairs after their mince pies, wanting to settle their stuff into the twins’ old bedroom. They knew from experience that they wouldn’t get as much chance to do this once everybody arrived – at least not without feeling that they were missing out on some kind of fun – and that it would feel nicer to have unpacked and settled in a bit before they went up to bed later, probably tired and at least three of them a bit tipsy. Molly had thoughtfully hung a magical curtain across the room, lest the couples wanted their privacy, but for now it was tied back against the wall. Each of the twins’ beds had been enlarged, but the reality was that the room wasn’t big enough and they were three quarter sized rather than doubles.

“It will be cosy and lovely,” Hermione had reassured Fred when he pointed that out. “I have no problem snuggling closer to you in the night, sweetheart. Now, if it were July again, I might feel differently!”

“At least George is further away,” Angie quipped, making them all laugh. “One storage heater for each of us is enough, I think!”

Both couples quickly unpacked their stuff, putting clothes in drawers and toiletries in the bathroom. Hermione made a careful pile of things she wanted to take downstairs, and Fred settled the pygmy puffs and their care items on the chest of drawers. He knew it was likely that they would be moving to wherever Elliot was sleeping, but they would be comfy enough in their basket in the twins’ old room for now.

George finished unpacking his things and took the opportunity to pull Angie down onto the bed. She giggled and the couple began kissing. Seeing her chance, Hermione spread her legs and pulled Fred on top of her as well. “If Angie’s having Christmas kissing, I might like some kissing too,” she whispered, and Fred gladly leaned down and snogged her, making them all feel like teenagers as they made out on their childhood beds. He rubbed himself against her, and she moaned.

“I thought I could manage for a couple of days, but I think we might be needing that curtain tonight. I hope Mum has put silencing charms on it,” she joked, and it was Angelina who replied.

“I’m so glad you said that first. I don’t think I can keep my hands off Georgie for that long; my hormones make me horny all the time!”

“We’ll figure it out, don’t worry,” Fred said, thrusting his pelvis once more into Hermione’s before sliding off her. “But not now,” he teased. “I can hear Bill!”

Minutes later, the four were back downstairs, and Bill and Fleur’s arrival was followed closely by a succession of others. For the next few hours, The Burrow was a happy, merry melee of Christmas preparation. Food was readied and put under charms; glasses and drinks were laid out for ease of use; furniture was moved and decorations were added to. They stopped for lunch, then for afternoon tea and mince pies and then there was a late afternoon lull as they took a break to admire their work and before making the last preparations for their Christmas Eve buffet, to which they had all contributed a couple of plates of food.

Each newly arriving couple or family had turned up with other food, drink and gifts as well, until the whole house seemed to be a mass of boxes, baskets and bottles. Harry, Lavender and Ron were the last to arrive, and the latter couple produced spiced rum, chocolate and beauty products from their bags as they eased themselves out of their coats. It was cold and dark out now, though Ron was happy to report that the WWW vending machine had done very well all afternoon despite the chill. Lavender had had the inspired idea of bringing poinsettia as table decorations, and enough free time that day to put three arrangements together which had delighted Molly. The elder witch squealed happily and set to putting the plants on the table as Ron levitated his presents under the tree, which could now barely be seen for boxes.

“It’s like a shrine to capitalism,” Lauren had joked quietly, until Charlie shushed her with a kiss.

“Many of us thought we wouldn’t see this Christmas all together,” he said, and Lauren’s face fell a little. “We’ve gone a bit mad with happiness as a result.”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “My mouth runs off with me sometimes before my brain remembers that kind of stuff.”

“You and Fred both,” he reassured her, “so we’re very used to it. Don’t worry. And you’re right,” he said, eyeing the presents. "We’ve been talking about finding a way to reduce it for next year. When we’re all having kids, it’ll get ridiculous. But we all wanted just one crazy blowout Christmas, to celebrate.”

“Of course.” Lauren stroked his face.

Elliot was having a marvellous Christmas Eve, though he was thoroughly overexcited. He had remarked, when he, Lauren and Charlie had been introduced to Lavender, that Lavender was a flower and Fleur meant flower, and he liked Fleur. That logic had endeared him to Lavender right away. The longing look she gave Ron didn’t go unspotted by Molly, who dearly wanted to see her youngest son settle down with a witch of his own. To this end, she personally escorted Lavender up to Ron’s room, insisting that she didn’t trust Ron to properly show Lavender where everything was.

“You make yourself comfortable at and home,” Molly said, waving at Ron’s bed, which she had made up especially with fresh sheets that very afternoon, wanting it to be nice for the young witch. “And let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“Thank you.” Lavender’s eyes shone again with happiness and she followed Molly back downstairs, with Ron’s mum chatting about how much she was looking forward to her Christmas Eve outing to the village. Molly and Arthur liked to go to the early evening carol singing in front of the church, she told Lavender. It was really for old times’ sake, she told Lavender, but it was something she very much enjoyed, and the others had said they would stay home and get supper ready for when she and Arthur got back to The Burrow. 

Lavender’s curiosity was piqued when they arrived back downstairs to find George and Ron leading the dinner preparations. It almost seemed like they wanted to get the older Weasleys out of the way for a while, and she was curious as to why that was. As far as Lavender could work out from overheard whispers, the Weasley siblings had some sort of game planned for while the elder Weasleys were gone. Lavender was sure she had misunderstood though, for she thought that Angelina had said it was called sex bingo. But surely, Lavender thought, as she watched Molly head to the coat stand, she must have misheard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't remember the origins of Fremione sex bingo and would like a reminder before next week, see Chapter 52 (Commitments and Bonds part 2) of The Wedding of Fred and Hermione 😊


	4. Chapter 4

Molly was delighted at Charlie’s suggestion that she and Arthur take Elliot to the village carol singing with them.

“He’ll love it,” Charlie said. “We’ll wrap him up really well, and you can take him in his pushchair so you don’t have to carry him. He’s getting to be quite a big boy now, aren’t you mate?” 

Elliot chattered away happily as Molly and Charlie installed him in his coat, hat, mittens and pushchair and Arthur gave him a Christmas card to use as a songbook. Charlie kissed his son and then stood at the kitchen door, waving at Elliot and his parents until they were out of sight. 

“Charlie Weasley…” Lauren attempted to sound shocked when Charlie stepped back into the kitchen and found her waiting for him. “Have you just pawned my son off on your parents so we can have an inappropriate conversation with your siblings about sex while they’re out?”

“I have.” Charlie was unabashed, and Lauren laughed. 

“I love it,” she said, and then she leaned in. “I wonder if there’ll be enough time for me to jump you before Bill and Fleur go to bed…”

“I doubt it,” he said, leading her to the living room, “but I’ll take you to the broom shed and show you my broomstick if you’re desperate.”

“Oh Charlie,” she replied, pretending to swoon. “You really know how to woo a muggle!”

“Have they gone?” George’s voice was excited, and Charlie chuckled. He gave his brother a nod, and George looked around. “Are we all here?” He still hadn’t quite decided how to introduce his twin and wife-in-law to the notion that their siblings were betting on their sex lives, but he had temporarily closed the bond he shared with Fred and was, as was the twins’ style, happy to make it up as they went along. He knew that Bill and Charlie were right behind him.

“I think so,” Angelina said, looking around at the group, who were all assembled in the living room. Bill and Percy had finished leading the supper preparations and, as soon as the table was set and laden with food, ready for the older Weasleys’ return, the brothers had begun pouring drinks and handing them out. Penelope and Ron were laying out a few snacks on the table. It was while reaching for a breadstick that Hermione noticed a few people holding cards in their hands and sent a quick thought to Fred through the bond. He nodded.

“What’s going on then?” he said cheerfully, indicating the card that George was holding. “Do we get a card for this game as well? Because it seems only fair that we should get to play, seeing as you’ve all been betting on our love life!”

Silence reigned for a few moments, and then it was chaos. 

“Bloody hell!”

“Who told them?”

“How did you know?”

“So we’re right? You’ve been betting on where we’ve had sex?” That was Hermione, but she was laughing as she said it, which was a relief to several of the witches, who hadn’t been entirely sure how she would feel about it.

Bill gave both of them a large glass of eggnog. “Something like that, but only out of love,” he winked.

“Well that saves me the long explanation,” George laughed, holding up his own card. “Fremione sex bingo,” he grinned. And then he frowned, not understanding “But how come you know? I was so careful with the bond!”

“I think it first came up on one of our date nights,” Hermione said, taking a sip of her drink and Fred nodded in agreement.

“The night of the roof,” he said, and she laughed.

“Yes,” Hermione tipped her head up. She was no longer the relatively inexperienced (although keen to learn) witch she had been on her wedding night, but now a woman with knowledge and far more confidence in her own sexuality. And she had quickly learned that the best way to counteract the Weasleys’ teasing was to talk confidently about such things herself. “Whoever had The Burrow’s roof, you got that point but only by a technicality.”

“Yes!” said Angelina, waving her wand and making a few sparkles in celebration and giving Hermione a wink. “That was me!” Point aside, she was delighted that her friend was turning the tables on the others.

“Not easy at all,” said Fred, shaking his head. Then he looked around at his brothers. “I know Bill has done it up there, because he’s bragged about it down the pub, but I’m fucked if I can work out how?”

Charlie and Lauren looked at each other, sharing a secret smile. The look Fleur gave Bill was a bit less readable to the others, but Hermione thought the eldest Weasley may have blushed a bit, which was something they didn’t get to see often.

“Seriously? You two as well?” Fred asked, and Charlie and Lauren nodded. “Recently?” They nodded again. Fred’s voice was demanding. “When? How?” He thought back to his and Hermione’s own attempt, which had them sliding down the roof and eventually giving up and going home.

“A few weeks ago. Elliot was in the room with us and we didn’t want to take the risk,” Lauren began, fuelled by the eggnog and high on the laughter that the group were sharing. “So Charlie summoned his broom and flew me up to the roof…” She looked at Hermione. “I had had a couple of glasses of wine with Molly that evening too,” she admitted, “otherwise I’m not sure I’d have been as keen to climb out of the window onto a hovering stick!”

“Yes, yes,” said Fred, teasing her with his eyes, “I know how to get UP there. But how did you DO it?”

Lauren laughed. “Well, Fred,” she said, “when a wizard and a woman love each other very much … or even if they just fancy the pants off each other and want a good time…”

“You’re doing it on purpose,” Fred said, his grin growing larger by the minute.

“Of course I am,” Lauren replied, reaching for a tortilla chip, dipping it in salsa and popping it in Fred’s mouth. “Transfiguration,” she said, enjoying the fact that she was now almost fluent in magical culture and terminology.

“I tried that!” Fred said. “I turned my shirt into a mattress!”

“A normal shaped mattress?” asked Charlie.

“Of course,” said Fred.

“Well that’s where you went wrong,” Charlie replied, rolling his eyes. “Gods, Bill, we’ve really neglected their education. Shouldn’t have left this to you, Percy!” He threw a peanut at Percy, turned back to Fred and leaned toward his brother. “Next time, conjure a nice, firm, wedge-shaped mattress and pop some sticking charms underneath, little brother; that way, you’re more level and you don’t slip down.”

“Bloody hell! Why didn’t I think of that!” Fred pretended to bounce his head on the coffee table in exasperation.

“Because you’re all potions and fireworks and thrill,” said Hermione, patting him in consolation. “It’s Charlie who has the spatial awareness and practical mind!”

“So,” prompted Ginny, wanting to find out the answer to the more important question, “you figured it out when you were on the roof? How did that happen?”

“Well we didn’t exactly figure it all out that night,” said Hermione, “but that was the night we started to talk to each other about a few odd things that were happening. George had left a note on his desk that day about swapping crepes for info, which was a bit odd. He and Bill had been weird about some other note that Fleur had sent him, and since when do George and Fleur have a special relationship?” she smiled at Fleur, who shrugged in acknowledgement of the point. George got on well enough with Fleur, but he wasn’t close with her in the way he was with Lauren, and they wouldn’t have had anything to correspond about directly. “We couldn’t work out why they would be writing to each other.”

“Then, on pizza night,” Fred continued, “Bill mentioned the joy of having sex on the washing machine, which I didn’t think anything of at the time. But then the next morning, once Georgie had flooed off to Shell Cottage for breakfast and we had taken Elliot back, Hermione said something about whether we needed to do laundry, and I mentioned Bill’s suggestion to her…”

“And that was the trigger, I think,” Hermione continued, “because I remembered that Ginny had made a comment to me a couple of days before, I think, about us doing it in the pantry.” She laughed. “I hadn’t thought any more of it at the time, but we suddenly noticed that everyone seemed to be interested in our sex lives.”

“We investigated quietly for a few days after that,” said Fred, “but once we realised something was going on, you weren’t hard to figure out.”

“Indeed not,” Hermione continued. “Several of you were helpfully offering location suggestions and, once we started watching him, Georgie seemed to be doing a brisk trade in exchanging information for food!”

George’s laugh was loud and he rubbed his belly in happiness. “That was the best bit!” he said.

“And after that,” Fred finished, “it became a fun game for us too, so thanks for that,” he winked, “because we’ve explored things that we might never have tried without you.” He gave Hermione a soft look, which she returned. But then Fred turned back to his siblings and was all business. “We want to offer you all a counter bet, though. What’s in the pot?”

“Twenty galleons each,” Charlie said, shaking his head slightly as he reached into his robes pocket and pulled out the wad of money that he had been keeping for the occasion. This wasn’t how he had thought the conversation would go at all. But it was likely going to be much more fun than if they had simply played the original game.

“Right,” said Fred, counting forty galleons out of his money purse and handing it to the dragon keeper. “Here’s our counter offer. If we have sussed out and ticked off more than ninety percent of the total locations across all your cards, we get the pot.”

“Only ninety per cent?” Ginny said, feigning shock at the audacity of Fred’s suggestion. 

Fred held up his finger. “I thought you might say that, so I’ve got another offer. For every one of your pedestrian locations that we missed, we’ll offer you a better alternative. If we can match the total number and beat any that we’ve missed for style, we win. If not, one of you does. And,” he produced a packet of sweets from his pocket, offering one to Hermione and popping one into his own mouth, “’Mione and I will eat a ‘truth or dare’ sweet each, so you’ll know we’re being honest.”

Hermione smiled and then made an exaggerated show of eating the sweet, washed down with her drink.

“Alright,” said Bill, keen to see if they really had figured this out. The fact that Fred had brought truth sweets indicated that he had thought this through, and it sounded like the pair had had the second part of the summer and the whole of the autumn to work on this. When you combined that fact with how clever Hermione and Fred both were, albeit in slightly different ways, Bill definitely wouldn’t bet against his brother winning at this point. Still, he wasn’t going to let the elder twin off without giving them all a decent show. “Let’s go.”

They began with the locations which were either obvious, easy or in which someone had seen them. Their bedroom, the twins’ room at The Burrow, each room at the flat – although George was quite dismayed to be told that it ‘served him right’ that they had quickly anointed his room before he and Angelina moved back in, for his part in the game. Angelina, by contrast, thought it was hilarious, especially when she learned that that was the reason for her being gifted the scented candle.

“And we know from your conversation one night in the flat with Ange that Ron had Ange’s flat on his card,” Hermione said.

“How?” said George, incredulous. “You were in your bedroom.” Then a thought crossed his face. “Elliot!” he said, remembering that his magical ear was kept in Fred and Hermione’s room when their nephew stayed over. “You used my bloody ear!”

“Of course we used your bloody ear,” said Fred. “You were betting on our sex life, for fucks’ sake. All’s fair in love and war!”

“You were very open about it,” said Hermione.

“That’s because I thought you were in your bedroom!” George said, laughing.

“We WERE in our bedroom!”

“So you did it in my flat?” Ange interrupted.

“It wasn’t premeditated,” Fred said. “We had offered to check up while you were on your honeymoon and, well, our bond was a bit affected by your wedding…” He shrugged, trying to look innocent.

“Does that mean you’ve done it in my bedroom here too?” asked Ginny. 

“We did it in everyone’s bedroom once we figured out that that was one of your categories,” said Hermione, smiling broadly. “Nice attic, Ron.”

Ron shook his head. “Bloody hell,” he said, looking at Harry, who shook his own in return.

“Except Mum and Dad’s,” said Fred. “That would be weird!”

“Ha!” exclaimed Ron. “That’s one you’ve missed then! Who had that?”

“I did,” said George, a bit sulkily, because he had suspected from the outset that picking that card would be a major factor in his chances of winning. He had managed to persuade them into the attic and the broomshed, but he knew that their parents’ bedroom would be a longshot.

“Oh that’s a shame, Georgie,” teased Angelina, “because I’ve ticked all mine off, so I’m in for a share of the pot!”

George stuck his tongue out at her. He already knew that; she had reminded him on several occasions over the past few weeks, while enjoying the combination of their own bond and her pregnancy hormones.

“Where did you have then?” Percy asked. 

“The treehouse, The Burrow’s roof and the main floor of the shop,” she replied.

“Oh Gods,” said Ginny. “Don’t remind me; that was where I caught them!”

Fred grinned again. He was loving this. “OK,” he said, “so we didn’t do it in the parental sanctum, for reasons that I think you will all understand. And so,” he smiled at Hermione, “we will take your parental sanctum and raise you … the Griffindor and Slytherin common rooms?”

Several conversations broke out at once, but the general gist and consensus was ‘how’ and ‘why’.

Fred took the floor again, laughing. “Georgie and Angie’s wedding night,” he explained. “The school was empty, because all the professors were on the beach getting drunk with Mum and Dad. We apparated home first, to get my broom, then to the gates and then we flew to the door. Couldn’t be arsed to walk, and knew we might need to do a quick getaway,” he winked. “Though we didn’t,” he said, looking at Hermione.

“Our plan was our common room,” she said, looking wistfully at Fred, “and it was lovely...” 

It had been strangely therapeutic to make love in a setting in which both of them, as younger teenagers, had secretly gazed at the other, both wishing that they were more than friends. They had lain on the sofa in the afterglow, both feeling a sense of completion that they couldn’t have anticipated.

“And then I looked at my darling Hermione,” Fred continued, “and I said, ‘shall we hit the Slytherin common room, so we have one in hand?’, and somehow my lovely wife said yes, so off we trotted, under the lake…”

“It’s very green, you know,” said Hermione.

“We know!” chorused Ron and Harry, pulling a pained face at each other as they remembered their own visit to the same room, some years earlier.

“Bloody hell,” said Bill, looking at Charlie. “We’ll need to be careful they don’t break our record for number of locations in the school!”

“Oh,” said Fred, “is that a challenge? Happy to take it on if so; just give us the list and we’ll report back next Christmas!”

“Oh Gods, I don’t think so,” Bill replied, laughing. “McGonagall will never forgive me for that!”

“Okay,” Percy interrupted. “I’ve ticked all mine off, but Penelope has the fire circle in the garden, and you’ve not mentioned that one?”

“Damn,” said Fred softly, looking at Hermione. “We could have ticked that one off on November fifth!”

“It was a bit cold,” she said, smiling. “But no matter, we can still beat it.”

“I suppose you’re going to raise us the Chamber of bloody Secrets,” said Ron, sounding more grumpy that he intended to. Lavender snuggled into his side and he put his arm around her. 

“Of course not, Ronald,” said Hermione. “There’s a dead basilisk down there. I mean, what sort of kinky stuff are you into?”

Lavender giggled at that, earning herself a grin from Harry, and Fred made a big show of shuddering at his younger brother, who laughed. Hermione smiled; it was so lovely to see a more grown-up Ron who was mature enough to take Fred and George’s teasing in his stride.

“Well I’m not into fucking in the Slytherin bloody common room, that’s for sure!” Ron bit back.

“Oh touché, young padawan,” Fred bowed, as Lauren muttered another apology to Hermione for having let Fred and George work their way through her DVD collection that autumn. She and Charlie had benefitted enormously from having the chance to go out together alone once a week, and Fred and George had offered to babysit while Hermione studied and Angie went out with her girlfriends. The pair had loved having regular ‘twin time’ on a Thursday evening, but their conversations were now filled with lines from their favourite films and TV shows. 

“We’ll take the firepit and raise you Dad’s secret shed?” Fred offered.

“Ha! No!” Ron cried in delight. “That’s one of mine, so I’ll tick that off, thank you very much, but you can’t claim it as an alternate.”

“Alright,” said Hermione, having downed half her eggnog and finding that she felt quite chatty. She looked at Fred and then back at the group. “We’ll raise you a Gringotts vault!”

“How the fuck?” Bill was laughing and looking shocked. He turned to Fleur, and her eyes were wide and smiling. She shrugged.

“That may have been me,” she said. “I helped them to have some private time in their shared vault. I thought they wanted to be alone to sort through some of Hermione’s old things…”

“We did,” said Fred, with a cheeky wink at his sister-in-law. “We just got finished sooner than we thought, and it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss!”

“You’re going to have a better location for any one of ours that you missed, aren’t you?” asked Harry. He looked around the room. “We may as well give up now, if Hermione’s brain has been at this puzzle! The hat considered Ravenclaw for a reason, you know!” 

“Of course we will,” said Hermione, putting her arm around Fred. “We’ve had months to work on this. Plus,” she looked at Fred tenderly, “we also have the mind and determination of a Weasley twin, and the pull of our bond.” She turned back to the group. “We’ve been to The Three Broomsticks, the shrieking shack, the room of requirement and,” she looked proudest of the next one, though she refused for the entire Christmas holiday to expand upon it, “platform nine and three quarters. We'll have our money now, please.”

As Fred grinned widely, looking mightily proud of Hermione, Charlie looked around the room. Most of the Weasleys were either shrugging, laughing or holding their hands up in defeat. Scooping up the money, he handed it to Hermione with a bow.

“We concede to your greater brains, wit and commitment to shagging, on this occasion, my Lady Mione. Use your winnings well!”

Hermione took the galleons with a giggle. “We will,” she said. “In fact…” She looked at Fred.

“We’re going to put it towards a pizza night on the flat roof at New Year,” he said. “If you’ll sort the weather, Charlie, we thought we could put up some heating charms and then we can all be outside and high enough to watch the fireworks go off around London. We’ll get pizza and wine with this,” he held up their winnings, “and anyone who doesn’t want to go home can kip in the flat. Bring your sleeping bags and duvets. It’ll be a great way to end the festive season!”

And, as they sat in the cosy warmth of The Burrow’s living room, enjoying the twinkling lights and the sense of relaxation that comes from knowing that you have nothing to do for a couple of days except help make food while you bask in the comfort of your family, no-one could argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more bit to go, and that's coming on Christmas Eve 😊 💜 🎄


	5. Chapter 5

“But I want to sleep between Mummy and Fleur!”

Elliot’s voice had reached the tone which, as Charlie had quickly learned, indicated that a meltdown was imminent. The child might be more in control of his emotions than the average toddler, thanks to Inardoe and whatever dragon magic was affecting his development, but he was still a toddler. He still got tired. And today had been particularly exciting, with it being Christmas Eve.

“And, as I have explained, my love,” Charlie said, wishing that Lauren would come back from brushing her teeth, “Mummy and Fleur are sleeping in different beds, so you have to pick one. Mummy and me, or Fleur and Uncle Bill.” 

He pointed to each bed in turn as he spoke. Molly and Arthur had done a great job of expanding their old room just enough to put in two double beds with enough room in between that each couple had a chest of drawers, both to store their stuff and to give them a modicum of privacy. As with the twins’ room, a curtain pole had been placed across the middle of the ceiling, a long curtain tied against the far wall for use if they wanted privacy.

“Mummy AND Fleur.” Elliot spoke slowly and clearly, explaining his desire as if Charlie was a small child himself, and the only thing that stopped the wizard from bristling was the fact that he remembered only too well the high emotions that came into play for kids around Christmas time. 

“Remember the night the twins were born?” Bill caught Charlie’s eye but deliberately made his words cryptic.

Charlie thought back for a moment.

“Oh,” he said, looking from Bill to Fleur. “That could work, if Fleur and Lauren are okay with it..."

Bill wandlessly cast a muffliato spell before speaking quickly to Fleur. “They were born in the night. At home, of course, like all of us. And it was so exciting to find two matching babies when we woke up. When it got to the evening, we were still so excited, and all three of us wanted to sleep with Mum and Dad and the new babies. But their bed wasn’t big enough. So, as a temporary measure, Dad stuck mine and Charlie’s beds onto the edge of theirs and we all slept in a row. Well, I say slept…” He grinned, and Fleur laughed, wondering how much sleep Molly had got that night.

“So we stick our beds together and put Elliot in the middle and you two boys on the outside?” Fleur shrugged. “That works for me.”

Five minutes later, after Lauren had also agreed that this was by far the best idea, the three magical adults had quickly moved the furniture around and stuck the beds together while Lauren held Elliot safely out of the way. He copied the wand movements, as usual, and Bill shook his head, continually amazed at how quickly the little chap picked up even complex patterns. 

“Come on then, in you get.” Charlie put Elliot’s little pillow and quilt and Bryan the dragon in the middle of the bed. “No, they definitely need to stay on the bedside,” he said, not wanting another argument about the pygmy puffs, who had, as Fred had predicted, also been moved to their bedroom. “It’s safer for them there,” he added, earning himself an amused look from Lauren. She was enjoying this, he realised, and his mood softened slightly when he remembered how grateful he was that he had found his little family earlier that year. If not for Hermione, he would have been alone in his bed this Christmas; likely still thinking about Lauren and sending hopes for her safety and warmth, wherever she was.

“Can we sleep now?” Fleur asked, getting in beside Elliot. Bill climbed in behind her and looped a long arm around her waist. “The baby and I are tired,” she said, and Elliot nodded, giving her tummy a pat.

“Sleep now,” he said, “and then it’s Christmas!” Elliot couldn’t wait for Christmas morning, but Bill and Percy had spent a long time that evening explaining the mechanics of Santa to him. In particular, Elliot now knew that Santa wouldn’t come unless everyone slept, and he was keen for Santa to come. He particularly wanted to see whether Santa and his reindeer had enjoyed the carrots, firewhisky and mince pie that Arthur had helped him leave out in front of the hearth. 

“And next Christmas,” Charlie added, as he and Lauren settled down too, and she snuggled back into his warm body, “there will be six of us!” Fleur and Bill had already asked Charlie and Lauren to be their baby’s godparents, and the two had gladly agreed.

“Maybe we’ll be on the way to seven,” Lauren whispered into Charlie’s ear, “if you play your cards right… Happy Christmas,” she whispered, as she stroked his arm. 

Two rooms away, Fred and Hermione were sharing the same thought. 

“Were you serious earlier,” Fred asked, “when you said that maybe we could start trying for a baby next year?”

He had wanted to ask ever since the conversation about the New Year pizza night. In the midst of the chaos of everyone getting excited about that idea, Molly, Arthur and Elliot had arrived home. More drinks had been poured, several willing hands had removed Elliot from his coat and hat and all the charms had been lifted, meaning that the family were quickly around the dinner table. Hermione had been glad to see that Lavender looked relaxed; she was snuggling into Ron’s side, and he would occasionally drop kisses onto her hair. Much as she loved Luna, it was clear that Ron and Lavender worked better together. The meal had been loud and enjoyable, and it had been followed by a concerted, group effort to get the kitchen cleaned and ready for the morning. Molly had been sent to put her feet up, along with Angelina and Fleur, while Percy and Bill took charge of the efforts.

“I was,” Hermione confirmed. “School will keep me busy til May or June, but after that … well,” she began to intersperse her words with kisses, “I know how much you want it … and I want it too … and, “her hands found their way into his boxer shorts, making Fred glad that they had closed the curtain between themselves and the others, “… I’ve had this urge to make babies with you ever since we bonded…” She gently pushed at Fred until he willingly laid back and let Hermione pull at the waistband of his pyjamas.

“More practice, love?” he breathed, his hand moving towards her knickers, which made Hermione sigh with happiness. Fred’s long fingers found their way inside her underwear and he alternately stroked her and tugged at the cotton fabric until he had achieved his aim.

The Burrow grew quieter as some of its residents went to sleep and some made love under silencing charms. Percy and Penelope had gone to bed first, but they were closely followed by Ron and Lavender, who would spend the night reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies. They would finally sleep for an hour and a half around dawn, when Fred and Ginny would awaken them and insist that they come down for present opening. The pair would then fall asleep on the sofa together after Christmas lunch, allowing Fred and George to paint Ron’s face and transfigure his clothes so that he turned into a Christmas elf while the rest of their siblings watched; too full of lunch to intervene.

Ginny and Harry had been the life and soul of the Christmas Eve party, in part because Harry had been so happy to have a few days off that he had downed three glasses of eggnog rather more quickly than had been ideal. But no-one had complained; drunk Harry was rather fun, especially when Hermione also got tipsy and the two of them began to regale the others with stories of what they and Ron had got up to in their first year at Hogwarts. Lavender had been delighted, especially as Ron called upon her to defend his honour on more than one occasion, and the conversation appeared to help her feel more a part of the family. Molly had caught Ginny’s gaze during one of these interactions, and Ginny had nodded at her mum, confirming their shared hope that this relationship would be the real thing for Ron. But a short while later, Ginny had towed a tipsy, tired and flirty Harry off to bed, grabbing a hangover potion on the way, and laughing as they left the living room amidst advice and catcalls from her sisters-in-law.

Bill and Fleur dropped off to sleep next, having put a silencing charm up so as not to disturb Elliot and then giggled with Charlie and Lauren about Harry. The four then giggled even more when Fleur reminded them of the response they had received from Molly when she took her turn – as was Weasley family tradition – to open one present on Christmas Eve. Molly had opened Bill and Fleur’s present, which was an enormous bag of lemon-coloured baby weight knitting wool arranged around the edge of basket of chocolate to enjoy while she was crafting. The gift had rendered Molly overcome with emotion and then frowning in confusion.

“I thought we were sure that she was a girl,” Molly had said, looking at Elliot, who had unwittingly been the bearer of that news. “Do you have doubts?” Molly fingered the wool, trying to calculate whether it would take a colourvaria spell to change it to a nice pink for her first granddaughter.

Bill had looked at Lauren, who laughed, knowing that he was hoping she would give Molly a lecture on gender norms. “Absolutely not,” she told him, shaking her head with a broad smile. “That’s all you. Though you could enlist Charlie if you like; he’s heard it often enough…”

Bill had rolled his eyes, smiling and then turned to his mother. “We’d like yellow, please,” he had said. “That way, we can pass it around if another Weasley baby needs it.”

“Ever the diplomat,” Fleur had teased him, as soon as the attention had turned to the next gift opening.

“I just want a peaceful Christmas,” Bill had laughed. “We’ll have that chat in the new year.”

Bill had opened a present from Hermione and found that, just as she had promised him back in the summer, she had bought him muggle hair conditioner. Elliot was delighted to open a family of cuddly giraffes from Ginny and Harry. Percy, Ron, Harry and Ginny deliberately chose presents that they knew would contain chocolate or treats, and began to dive in. Ron explained his rationale to Lavender, telling her that choosing a chocolate present on Christmas Eve ensured that one had something good to eat while opening the rest of their gifts on Christmas morning. Lavender laughed at his rationale and then her laughter turned to delight when Molly handed her a present. It was a muggle hair and beauty magazine that they had bought in the village newsagent’s when they had gone carol singing, and Lavender was delighted with it.

Lauren had bought muggle presents for all the Weasleys and she was delighted when two of hers were opened on Christmas Eve. Fred had a muggle book about biology and DNA. He and George hadn’t stopped asking her questions about it since the summer, but she knew better than to give the twins a joint present, so George had a muggle chemistry set to open the next morning. Lauren knew full well that, despite their protestations at the idea of joint presents, they would share both. And Arthur opened an envelope from Lauren, which had been decorated by red and green scribbles, courtesy of his grandson, and contained a subscription to The Saturday Times, along with a home-made voucher for crossword lessons.

Lauren had anticipated that Arthur would have no idea what this meant, so she was prepared. She had cut out a couple of old crosswords and saved them in her bag. She gave them to Arthur, along with a quick lesson, promising to teach him more over the next few days. “You’ll get a new paper every week,” she would tell him. “It’s going to come by owl from a newsagent run by a muggle-magical couple.” She and Charlie both suspected – correctly – that Arthur would be quite overcome with emotion. Being able to read the muggle news in his shed before trying his hand at a muggle puzzle – which, Lauren would explain, would help him further increase his knowledge of the muggle world – was a fantasy that he hadn’t even considered. When Hermione and Harry both indicated that they knew about crosswords and would be happy to help, he clutched the newspaper scraps to his chest and declared it the best present ever.

“Oh bless,” said Fred to George, under his breath. “Wait til the morning, when he finds out that Hermione got him a muggle pencil tin full of stationery to help him fill it in, so he doesn’t have to use a quill!”

Molly had gently prevented Hermione from opening the first present she had picked, urging her to save it til the morning, and steered her instead to a parcel from Ron, which turned out to be very nice scarf. When she looked at Ron, in some surprise at this positive turn in taste, he simply grinned and hugged Lavender to his side. Hermione smiled at the other witch, who had clearly helped Ron to choose her gift, and nodded a thank you.

“Mum doesn’t like Weasley jumpers being opened on Christmas Eve,” Fred whispered into Hermione’s ear once everyone’s attention had turned elsewhere. “Thinks it’s bad luck or something.”

“Oh.” Hermione hadn’t known that, but it was the sort of thing that was good to store away for future Weasley Christmases, of which she hoped she would enjoy many. In the morning, however, she would discover that Molly’s reticence wasn’t born solely of superstition, but also from the fact that the Weasley matriarch was highly amused at having played a joke on the twins, which she had wanted to save for Christmas Day itself. She had made Hermione a red jumper with a golden ‘A’ on it, while Angelina’s – which was baggier than usual, to accommodate her growing tummy – sported a golden jumper with a red ‘H’.

The laughter and joy of the first gift giving had turned to a low, soft chatter over drinks, but some of the Weasleys were either tired or wanting private time, and several weren’t far behind Bill, Charlie, Lauren and Fleur. But half an hour after Elliot had dropped off, Lauren was finding it hard to sleep for excitement and happiness. She lay in Charlie’s embrace, just enjoying the sensation of being in a house full of people. Counting her blessings, she snuggled her bottom towards Charlie, who scooped his arm further around her. Feeling the rise and fall of his chest against hers, Lauren finally began to feel sleepy when she heard the soft creaking noises which indicated that Charlie’s parents were going to bed.

Fred and Hermione were so wrapped up in loving each other that they didn’t hear the creak of the floorboards on the landing outside their room, even though Fred and George knew well what that sound indicated and, on Christmas Eve, what it preceded. Arthur Weasley had gallantly finished his evening by eating three quarters of a carrot – ensuring that he left a piece into which he carved large teeth marks with his wand as evidence of a reindeer bite. He then offered Molly her choice of mince pie or firewhisky and, as she had done every Christmas Eve for nearly three decades, she carefully broke the mince pie in two and handed half to Arthur before toasting him and then drinking exactly half of the firewhisky before giving him the rest.

“Are we ready, Mollywobbles?” he had asked, looking around at the tree, presents and new dining room, already set for Christmas breakfast. Chores and roles had been allocated so that the work would be shared, and most of the food preparation was done.

“We’re ready,” Molly had replied before taking Arthur’s hand and leading him up the wooden stairs. They had put on their nightwear and magically brushed their teeth before climbing into bed. Before laying his wand on his bedside table and kissing Molly goodnight, Arthur had one last task to perform. With a smile, he raised his wand and cast a charm that he had made it his business to learn when Bill was nearing two years old, and that he had performed exactly once a year ever since. 

The sound of jingle bells emerged from his wand, flew out of the bedroom window, made a spiral around The Burrow and then soared around the village. It was Arthur’s present to the local children as well as his own, and the residents of Ottery St Catchpole had wondered about its origin for many years. But, by the time they looked out of the window to see the source of the noise, it had always gone.

Hermione was laying in Fred’s arms, spent and happy, when she heard the jingle bells.

“Santa!” she whispered loudly, and Fred chuckled.

“Of course,” he smiled. “Santa always jingles around The Burrow on Christmas Eve. So now you know he’s been, shall we sleep?”

Hermione nodded.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he said, and kissed her once more before settling down.

“Merry Christmas Fred,” Hermione replied. “Here’s to a lovely Christmas and even more adventures next year!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays! 🎄 Hope you enjoyed the update. Huge thanks to LSUSWEETIE for all the encouragement and cheerleading as well as the pics that go with the main story and this Christmas special. Thanks also to those who have left happy comments, which help me to determine whether there's enough interest to warrant writing more in this universe or not 😊 I'll be sharing a happy Fremione bed-sharing 5+1 story in the new year, so watch this space! 💜


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